Unlovable (6 page)

I remembered my grandmother and I
being in the kitchen. She was tying a yellow ribbon in my hair to
match the dress she’d made me: blue with white and yellow daisies.
I was sitting on a stool, fidgeting. The room smelled of
fresh-baked cookies and I desperately wanted one.

“
Hold still, sweetheart,”
she said, fishing the silky ribbon through my ponytail and tying it
into a bow. “There, perfect.” I jumped off the stool and began
spinning in circles. The dress had a full skirt, and when I swirled
around it floated out in a huge circle.

“
I love it, grandma, thank
you very much. It’s delightful.” I ran over and gave her a big
hug.

“
Delightful? What a big word
for such a little girl.” I looked up into her blue eyes, and
watched her smile fade. She cupped my chin and kissed my forehead.
“I guess it’s a good thing you’re mature far beyond your four and a
half years.”

She took a tissue from her pocket and
wiped her eyes. “Alright, Princess Maggie. Scoot along and find
your grandfather. Let him know your mom will be here any minute.” I
spun around one last time and skipped off to find him. “And no
cookies, you’ll spoil your appetite,” she added.

I found my grandpa in the bathroom as
he finished shaving. “Oh, my, aren’t you the sweetest little
princess in all the land.”

“
Thanks, Grandpa. Mom’s on
her way. Why is she coming over?” I sank down onto the edge of the
tub and studied him as he put on his tie.

“
It was her 21st birthday a
few days ago, remember? We’re going out to dinner to celebrate
tonight.” He looked over at me. “What’s the matter,
Magpie?”

“
Do I have to go and stay
with mommy again?” I seldom saw her when I was very young, and the
few times she did come to visit, the three of them would usually
end up arguing. My grandfather would demand she act more
responsibly, and I’d have to go stay with her for a day or two. My
grandmother would prepare a backpack for me to take, putting
cereal, peanut butter, jam and some bread in it. She’d taught me
how to make sandwiches and had me practice pouring cereal into a
bowl and adding milk. Of course, at my mom’s place I usually had to
add water since she never had milk.

My mom would hate it when I played
with my toys in her living room and often banished me to the
bedroom. “Get out of my hair,” she’d demand. I spent most of the
time alone playing with my dolls.

After a couple of days my grandparents
would check on us, they’d have another huge fight, and I’d go back
with them until my mother came around again, and the cycle would
repeat itself.

“
Not today, princess.”
Sorrow touched his face as he spoke of my mother, and I felt bad
for having said anything. “Hey, how about a butter-rum Lifesaver?”
He held out a tattered roll of the candy, inviting me to take
one.

“
Grandma will be angry if I
have one before dinner.” He was forever tempting me with butter-rum
Lifesavers, and I was forever falling for the
temptation.

“
I won’t tell if you won’t,”
he whispered.

“
I heard that, Harry,” my
grandmother chided from the other room. “You’ll spoil her
dinner.”

“
Yes, dear,” he said,
handing me one with a wink. I popped the candy into my mouth and
sucked on it until it dissolved into nothing.

My mother arrived a few minutes later
reeking of alcohol. At the time I didn’t know what the smell was,
only that she smelled funny. We all climbed into their car with my
grandparents up front. I sat in a booster chair next to my mom in
the back.

On our way to the restaurant, an
uninsured drunk driver ran into us, killing my grandparents
instantly. I wasn’t hurt, thanks to my car seat, however, my mom
wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, and she was thrown from the car. She
hurt her right leg and her back and never fully recovered from the
injuries. With what little insurance money my grandparents had, she
bought the singlewide trailer we currently called home. I don’t
know how we’d have survived otherwise. It wasn’t much, but it was
paid for. I often wondered how different things would have been if
not for the accident.

I gathered a few books and went back
to working on my research paper. It was stupid to dwell on the
past, it only depressed me. Around noon, the librarians began
setting up tables in a conference room off to the side for a
luncheon. I did fine until they brought the food out, the smell
drove me crazy. I used the last of the bread to make my mom a
sandwich before I left and hadn’t eaten anything since lunch
yesterday. Unable to stomach the enticing smells of food any
longer, I shoved my belongings into my bag and left.

The wind pounded me mercilessly,
making it difficult to keep from being blown over. Reaching the
corner, I collapsed onto a bus stop bench and dropped my head to my
knees, exhausted and dizzy. Somehow, I had to find a way of getting
more food into the house without my mother knowing about it. If I
spent too much of her money on food, she’d berate me for my
selfishness, but the hunger headaches which plagued me and now this
dizziness was plain ridiculous.

I heard a car pull up next to the bus
stop. Too weak to look up, I kept my head down. “Are you alright?”
It was Seth. Unbelievable!

“
I’m fine. Just waiting for
the bus.” I kept my head down, still not bothering to look at him.
I was surprised he even stopped. We’d hardly spoken since the candy
disaster i
n culinary class earlier in the
week.

“
You’ll have a long wait.
This bus doesn’t run on weekends.” I glanced up at the bus sign.
Sure enough, it was a ’weekday only’ bus. I closed my eyes and
dropped my increasingly dizzy head back into my hands.

“
Come on.” Silently, he
appeared at my side with an arm around my waist before I could
argue. “You look awful, let me take you home.”

“
Did I ask your opinion on
my outfit?” I tried sounding fierce with my retort, but thanks to
the dizziness, it sounded silly more than anything.

“
That’s not what I meant.
It’s your face, it looks awful.”

I snapped my head up to his. I’d known
of Seth’s high cheekbones, having drooled over them many a time.
Today, however, they were slightly pink, probably from the cold. It
gave his face a warm friendly glow. It was then I noted his mouth
for the first time. It was definitely kissable, with its full round
lower lip, and the Cupid’s bow on the upper. There was a strong
temptation to reach up and… I jumped back a few inches and shook my
head to clear it. I needed some food, quick!

He laughed. “That didn’t come out
right, I meant you look pale. Please let me take you home,” he
said, sliding the arm of my sweater up above my elbow.

“
What are you doing?” I
pulled my arm away from his warm hands.

“
Just checking your pulse to
make sure you’re still alive,” he chortled.

“
I believe a person’s pulse
is in their wrist.”

“
Oh, yeah. Sorry. I didn’t
do so well in Human Physiology.” He began guiding me toward his
car.

I pulled back. “I don’t need a ride,
thanks. Really, I’m fine,” I said as a gust of wind came by blowing
me back into his arms.

“
I can see that.”

Too weak and dizzy to fight anymore, I
allowed him to lead me over to the car. He opened it, and I stood
there for a moment debating.

“
Please get in,
Maggie.”

Impressive, he actually looked
concerned. I decided that pride was easier on a warm day and
settled into the car. He turned the heater vents toward me as he
had before and set the temperature on high. Our trailer never felt
this warm.

“
Thanks.” I wasn’t sure he
understood me through my half frozen lips. Holding my hands in
front of the heater vents, the warm air blew up my sleeves and down
my thin sweater, thawing my frozen body. It felt wonderful. He
didn’t make a single comment about my sweater, or the hole in my
sneaker, though the fact that I kept the shoe tucked strategically
under the seat might have been why.

Or maybe he was a really nice guy, and
I should cut him some slack.

“
Warm enough?” Short of
starting a small fire, I had no idea what he planned to do to make
it any warmer.

As I thanked him, I noticed
the undeniable smell in his car.
“Why do I
smell food?”

“
I’m delivering lunches to
some of the local senior citizens.”

My first thought was to question why,
until I remembered our Mythology class assignment. He must have
opted to do the community service.

“
Are you sure you’re okay?
What did you have for breakfast?” He felt my forehead causing goose
bumps to dance up my back.

“
I was in a hurry this
morning and forgot to eat.” And the lies kept piling up! Besides,
he didn’t need to know about our family struggles.

“
If I give you a lunch, will
you eat it?” He looked at me skeptically.

Great, he thinks I’m anorexic. Oh,
well, may as well feed the anorexic rumors. My clothes hung on me
anymore, and I’d heard the whispers as I’d walked down the hall at
school. “No thanks, I’ll eat something later.”

“
You know these lunches
don’t have a home, and if you don’t eat them they’ll go to waste.”
How sweet, he was trying to encourage the anorexic to eat. I
muffled my laugh.

“
Why don’t you eat it?” I
dared him.

“
I’ve already had my lunch,”
he said. “Here.” He grabbed two Styrofoam boxes from the back seat
and held them in front of me. “You have your choice of a chicken,
or a roast beef sandwich.” He began reciting the menu as if he were
reading from a brochure. “There’s also a choice of steamed mixed
vegetables, or broccoli smothered in cheese, and a brownie.” He
tempted me once more with the small white boxes, and my stomach let
out a huge growl. Ugh! I thanked him and took one, forcing myself
to pick casually at the food instead of inhaling it. I was
unbearably hungry.

“
I have two more stops, if
that’s alright with you. They’re on the way, I believe, you said
you live over by the park, right?” He asked right as I took a huge
bite of the chicken sandwich, blowing my
casually picking
plan. I could only
nod.

“
The first delivery is to a
man named Frank McSheehy. He was injured in World War II and
struggles with getting around these days. He fell and broke his hip
three months ago, and now he’s temporarily confined to a
wheelchair. Oh, one more thing, he likes to talk. You’ve been
warned!” He winked, causing my heart to skip a beat.
For crying out loud, Maggie, get a grip on
yourself.

We pulled up in front of a tiny run
down cottage on Front Street. A frail-looking man, Mr. McSheehy I
assumed, was sitting by the front window waiting for us. He pushed
open the door when we reached the porch. The petite man all but
disappeared in his oversized wheelchair. A few wisps of white hair
danced around on the top of his head with the wind, and his thick
black-rimmed glasses made his eyes bug-like in
appearance.

“
Good afternoon, my guardian
angel.” He held out his hand and shook Seth’s warmly. “Who is this
beauty by your side, an angel in training?” He took my hand,
squeezing it softly.

“
Maggie’s a friend of mine,
although an assistant would be helpful,” he said. “Maggie, this is
Mr. McSheehy, also a friend of mine.”

“
Come, sit down for a
minute.” He led us inside and pointed to a coffee table in the
living room. “I was looking through some photos of my days in the
war.” He had several photo albums spread out on the small table. “I
promise to keep you for no more than ten minutes. You still have to
deliver lunch to Miss Ethel, correct?” Seth nodded.

Seth and I sat on a small tattered
couch while Mr. McSheehy went through several pages of his album
with us. He had received the Purple Heart during World War II, of
which he was very proud. He shared some photos he had taken on the
day the Americans liberated the Concentration camp,
Gusen.

“
This was taken in May,
1945. That’s me,” he said, pointing to a handsome young soldier.
“My troop went into the Gusen camp in Austria. The day we arrived
thousands of bodies had to be buried in a mass grave and about 300
people a day died thereafter. Not only were they starving to death,
there was also a horrible typhus epidemic throughout the
camps.”

He slid a photo across the table
toward me of several dead bodies piled on a cart. The people looked
like skeletons with skin on them. It broke my heart. “There was no
food in the kitchen. We were able to find some potatoes in storage
and made a thin soup to feed them. We were also able to make up
some unleavened bread out of oats.

“
The enemy was barbaric!
Tens of thousands of Jews died in Gusen, and we as people have
become complacent.” He shook a finger in the air dramatically,
stretching up tall in his rickety wheelchair. “We seem to have
forgotten that some th
ings are worth dying
for, number one being our fellow man. Fighting to free God’s
children from wickedness like this,” he held up the picture of the
dead bodies in the wheelbarrow, “that price will never be too high
for this soldier to pay.”